Page 20 of Learning Curve

It’s amazing, really. A case to be studied by historians in the next century.

As Gary pulls the shiny black Escalade into the dim parking lot of the Westchester Catacombs, all vestiges of the good-time guy I was on the ride here are gone, and the hard-ass older brother in me takes over.

My twin brothers Jack and Travis are screwing around at the edge of the parking lot, while our little sister Willow sits on a bench near the entrance door to the stairwell that leads underground. Jack is wearing a damn parking cone on his head, and Travis is swinging his shirt around his head like a lasso.

“I’m going to kill them,” I mutter as I hop out of the SUV before Gary has a chance to pull it to a stop. Music from the still-open Grotto vibrates the ground as I stalk toward my two idiot brothers.

“Finney!” Jack shouts at the top of his lungs. “You’re here!”

“Hells yeah! Finnsishere!” Travis cheers, alcohol hindering his tongue’s ability to enunciate.

Willow cringes on the bench, fully knowing that her brothers’ theatrics aren’t helping with my already volatile state. I don’t bother with hellos. “You brought Willow to the Grotto? Have you two asshats lost your minds?”

“Don’t be mad, Finn,” my sister jumps in, standing up from the bench as she does and crowding me away from Jack and Trav. “I begged them to let me come out tonight. It’s not their fault.”

“Not their fault?” I snap disbelievingly, staring down Jack and Travis. They’ve sobered enough to stop screwing around in the parking lot and actually listen, but the parking cone is still on Jack’s head and Travis is still shirtless with his T-shirt resting in his hand haphazardly by his side. “I’m gone for what? Not even two weeks? And you’re letting our sixteen-year-old sister come to this sketchy-ass place so you can drink?”

“I’m not a child, Finn,” Willow attempts to interject. “I’m more responsible than Jack and Trav, and you know it.”

My sister may have a valid point about responsibility, but the Grotto is the last place a sixteen-year-old girl should be.

Travis is the first to break.

“Sorry, Finns. She begged.” He holds both arms out wide, but that movement makes him trip over his own two feet.

“Yeah, Finn.” Jack’s head bobbles up and down. “Her jackass boyfriend dumped her, and she didn’t want to be home alone while Mom was at work.”

“Wait…what?” Travis questions, looking over at Jack before his eyes land on Willow. “Stupid Steve broke up with you?”

“What the hell?” Willow cries out, pointing an accusing index finger at Jack. “I told you not to tell anyone.”

Jack is bashful, though the parking cone on his head really lessens some of the effect.

“Willow, why didn’t you tell me?” Travis questions, his eyes softening around the edges.

“Because I’m embarrassed, okay?” she mutters, and I don’t miss the fact that a few tears prick her eyes. “And you’re a total hothead.”

“Low, I swear, just say the word. I’ll kill him.” Travis steps toward her to place a gentle hand on her shoulder, proving that he is, in fact, a fucking hothead. “No questions asked.”

“Travis,” I chastise when I realize shit is going way off the rails. “Cool it.”

“What? I’m being serious. No one makes my baby sister cry. I’ll bury Stupid Steve’s body in the backyard. I don’t give a flipping shit.”

“Tabasco Hot. Maybe Fire. I dunno. Too early to tell,” Ace remarks from directly behind me, and I glance over my shoulder to find him and Blake standing there with amused smiles on their faces. Gary still sits behind the wheel in the idling Escalade.

I sigh. Run a hand through my hair. “Jack, Travis, Willow, this is Ace Kelly, my roommate. And Blake Boden,” I halfheartedly introduce, hoping my brothers are too drunk to notice who Blake actually is before I get back to reaming their asses.

Unfortunately, Jack doesn’t miss a beat.

“Oh, holy balls!” he shouts at the top of his lungs, his parking-cone hat falling off his head when he starts to gesture wildly with his hands. “The Blake Boden? As in, one of the best fucking college quarterbacks in the nation?”

Blake smiles and waves, the motion making him look like a young, super-muscular Ron Howard. Gee golly gosh might as well be the next words out of his mouth. “Nice to meet you, man.”

“I just want you all to know I’m uncomfortable living in this kind of shadow. Blake, I don’t know if we can be friends anymore,” Ace teases, and Blake shoves him in the shoulder.

“Finn, your new college friends are hot,” Willow says, propelling her breakup with Stupid Steve distinctly into the past.

“Low, you’re too young,” I interject without remorse. “And you two idiots—” I turn to Jack and Travis “—if I ever find out you brought Low here again, I’ll be the one burying bodies in the backyard. We clear?”

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